


Leaf Raking doesn't go as planned.

by PJOwriter



Series: Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and Enjolras- child and teen years [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Child Combeferre, Child Courfeyrac, Child Enjolras, Gen, Sickfic, Vomiting, brotherly feelings, leaf raking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27358456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PJOwriter/pseuds/PJOwriter
Summary: There are leaves to be raked, but Enjolras is ill.Enjolras and Courfeyrac are around 8, Combeferre a couple years older.
Relationships: Combeferre & Courfeyrac & Enjolras (Les Misérables)
Series: Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and Enjolras- child and teen years [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1998142
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	Leaf Raking doesn't go as planned.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GEGabriels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GEGabriels/gifts).



"When we get home, my dad wants us to help him do some yard work" said Combeferre when he saw his younger friends as they got on the bus. 

"Aw, do we have to?" Courfeyrac asked. "I want to play!" 

"And I don't feel very well" Enjolras said. 

Combeferre sighed, laying a hand on Enjolras's forehead. "You don't have a fever. What's bothering you?" 

"I just don't feel very well." 

"Can you be more specific?" Combeferre asked. 

"My stomach hurts." 

Combeferre frowned. Enjolras usually didn't admit to illness easily, he just got really quiet and grouchy. Him admitting it now could mean it was bad. Or, as there was no fever or other visible sign (and Combeferre sort of hated himself for thinking it) it could mean that he just wanted to get out of raking leaves. 

"Do you feel like you might throw up?" He asked. 

"Not right now." Enjolras said. "It just doesn't feel good." 

"Alright, Enj" Combeferre said, "It would be good if you help with the leaves if you feel well enough, but if you don't, it's okay. Just lay on the couch and get some rest." 

"Alright, Ferre" Enjolras said, nodding his head. 

Combeferre turned to Courfeyrac. "And, Fey, we need to help my dad. You don't want him to have to rake all the leaves by himself do you?" 

"I guess not. And raking leaves is kind of fun!" Courfeyrac said with a grin. 

"It is" Combeferre said. "Did you have a good day?" Courfeyrac immediately started chattering, Enjolras joining in occasionally. 

When they got to Combeferre's house, his father was already outside. "If you want to help me, go and change out of your school clothes" he said. 

They changed quickly. Courfeyrac and Enjolras always kept a couple of outfits there because they spent so much time there. 

"You coming outside?" Combeferre asked Enjolras. 

He nodded, wanting to be with his friends. 

Outside, they each grabbed a rake and began working. They also picked up branches and put them in a pile to be burned in the fire pit later. Combeferre and Courfeyrac chatted animatedly with each other and with Combeferre's father. 

Enjolras was mostly quiet, and Combeferre kept a close eye on him. So he noticed when Enjolras suddenly froze, a panicked expression on his face. Combeferre was at his side in an instant. Enjolras took two steps toward the house, and then doubled over and threw up. Combeferre sighed, rubbing his back. 

Courfeyrac stayed well away, but Mr. Combeferre went over to them. Enjolras stood up straight again and made a little whimpering sound. "Let's go inside" Combeferre said. Enjolras nodded shakily. 

Soon, Enjolras had a clean shirt on, and he was curled up on the couch beside Combeferre. Combeferre's father had expressed the concern that Combeferre would catch whatever Enjolras had, but Combeferre wasn't worried. "Why'd you come outside if you felt that badly?" Combeferre asked.

"Wanted to be with you and Courf" Enjolras mumbled. "And I didn't feel  _ that  _ bad when I went outside. It got worse kind of suddenly. But now I just messed things up, because you and your dad had to take care of me and you won't get the leaves finished today. I'm sorry."

Combeferre stroked Enjolras's hair, feeling guilty for doubting that he was telling the truth earlier. "Shh… there's nothing to say sorry for. You can't help it. I don't mind. My dad doesn't either. Nobody's mad at you". 

"My dad would mind" Enjolras said sadly. 

Combeferre felt a surge of white hot anger at the man, not for the first or last time. "Your dad's an ass."

"Your mom said not to call people that" Enjolras remembered. 

"You won't tell." Combeferre said. 

Combeferre's father came into the room, with a mug in his hand. Courfeyrac followed behind him. 

Mr. Combeferre set the mug on the coffee table. "It's ginger tea. It might help settle your stomach. You don't have to drink it if you don't want to, though." He turned to Courfeyrac. "Do you want to go help finish the leaves with me, or stay here? Maybe you can watch a movie." 

Courfeyrac thought. He didn't really want to sit still, nor did he want to be around if Enjolras threw up again, because that was gross. "I'm coming with you."

Mr. Combeferre smiled and looked at his son. "Gabriel, come and get me if you need me. I'm only doing the leaves near the house right now. Your mom will be home soon." 

Combeferre nodded.

Enjolras drank half of the tea, and then fell asleep. Combeferre picked up a book from the coffee table and read silently, staying beside Enjolras in case he needed him. He promised himself that he would always be there when Enjolras needed him. 

Even though Combeferre was ill a few days later, it was worth it.

  
  



End file.
